


Being Brave

by Soubrettina



Series: Chameleons and Newts [2]
Category: Tangled (2010)
Genre: Family, Gen, PTSD, Panicking, Phobias, Psychology, cowpox, tw:needles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-07
Updated: 2016-01-07
Packaged: 2018-05-12 12:01:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5665348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soubrettina/pseuds/Soubrettina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The King of Corona is trying to encourage the nation's children to be vaccinated against smallpox by the method used then, which isn't pretty but is fairly safe. For publicity, Rapunzel- recently returned home- agrees to be be inoculated in public. And it nearly goes well... but why is Eugene behaving so strangely about it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Being Brave

"We're here! Hello everyone! How are we all? Hello Nika, nobody told me you would be here- is this your brother? Karolina, you're here! How are you feeling? Well I'll find out for you what it's like. Milo! Are you okay? Well, if you want to watch then it won't be as bad as waiting and being afraid. Do we have a deal?... Hello Evalina..."  
  
"Does she know every child in the city?" a guard whispered to Eugene as Rapunzel made inches of progress through the room, seeing to greet everybody who had swarmed to meet her.  
  
"Don't know. Might do. She's good like that. Likes kids."  
  
The guard glanced askance at him, fair enough. Eugene knew he was being uncharacteristically monosyllabic. Well, that was the way it was and just now he seemed stuck that way- his mood would not lift even if he wanted it to. He was also aware that he seemed to be stuck hunched and folded in on himself, which was why it hurt when someone poked him in the back with something that felt like a rolling pin but turned out on inquiry to be a finger of similar size.  
  
"What's up with you now, Rider?"  
  
 Eugene turned and looked up at a familiar lantern jaw, bulbous nose and eyes sunk deep under a horned helmet that seemed excessive even for the scale of its wearer.  
  
"Vladimir? What are you doing here?"  
  
"Same as everyone else. King said, free smallpox vaccination for everyone under twenty, because of the epidemic."  
  
"...and so..." I mean surely not, he's... Actually how long has he been around... But... But surely not, he can't be... Eugene gave up. "Oh. Why didn't you come when it was less busy?"  
  
"Oh you know..." The big man glanced towards the far end of the hall where Rapunzel was shaking hands with the nurse, the doctor and a very embarrassed looking young woman of about her own age in milkmaid's clothing with her bonnet and sleeves pulled down low. "Thought I'd see this first."  
  
Oh. Right.  
  
That was the whole point in Rapunzel being here, of course. Eugene had to admit that it didn't sound like an afternoon's fun, and enough children had apparently thought the same that it had been suggested to Rapunzel that it might help if they could see her have it done. Or their see for themselves that King Leopold was as convinced as he sounded.  
  
Which was why there was a theatrical susurrus when Rapunzel sat down in the chair and rolled back her sleeve- the predictably of it irritated Eugene to the point that his teeth clenched. He hated them all, the frog-faced kids and their twittering, vacillating mothers and their oh-look-darling, at kids who would look at whatever they damn well fancied at the time. He was aware of the fizzing expansion of his temper latching onto everything- the texture of the floor was so repulsive, the young doctor’s thin failure of a beard was an insult, the voices so grating that he felt his head was going to burst.  
  
He looked along the room at the little tableau at the end, seeing the room seeing to stretch away like India rubber into infinity, and yet he saw the table so close that when the milkmaid rolled her sleeve back the cowpox pustules like red cherries on her fair skin, he saw them as at an inch in front of him, saw them and smelled the sweat and warmth of her, even perceived the texture- soft skin dotted with hard, smooth hot lumps filmed with fluid, as if it had been rubbed over him.  
  
And then the scalpel appeared- or rather it had been there the whole time and Eugene hadn't seen it, waiting there. And it was no good now thinking no not now please don't let this be happening as all the warmth fell out of him, because suddenly he knew the feeling, the unignorable nausea but muscles so cold and useless nothing could happen- limbs too long and heavy to belong to him, nothing in the world but the unbelievable outrage of steel forced into his flesh.  
  
Somewhere from the abyss behind him a voice said:  
  
"Mr Fitzherbert, are you okay?"  
  
****  
  
"Of course you couldn't just faint like other people, could you, Rider?"  
  
It seemed that the nurses had fully anticipated fainting- what with there turning out to be a battered but very clean couch behind the screens in the corner. And big cushions, that they'd put under Eugene's feet so that he was lying with his legs in the air whether he liked it or not. And the grey standard-issue blanket that they'd draped over him.  
  
"It's usually the fathers, of course."  
  
Duly reassured that Eugene was more or less himself again (well, one of his selves, one that she was used to) Rapunzel knelt at his side and laid her hand over his.  
  
"How are you feeling?"  
  
"Pretty stupid, actually. I see you got your scratch in the end."  
  
"Yeah." Rapunzel glanced at the bandage on her arm. "It was fine. I've had worse wounds doing embroidery."  
  
"And..." Eugene sighed and shrunk down into his upside-down deportment, "how is the doctor?"  
  
"Okay. He just went over backwards. You probably hurt your knuckles worse than his teeth."  
  
"Well tell him I... well, nothing really. I'm sorry."  
  
"I know."  
  
"He must be, princess." Vladimir rumbled. "I've never heard him say that before."  
  
Rapunzel beamed at him.  
  
"It was so kind of you to help him! You made everything work out okay! Didn't he Eugene?"  
  
"Yes, I guess so. I can see being carried out by my ankles was just what I needed."  
   
"Yeah. Well I'm off to get my scratch. If he kicks off again-"  
  
"Thank you. But I will be looking after him."  
  
"Right."  
  
After the big man had rumbled off, and a window was revealed casting light across the couch, Rapunzel whispered:  
  
"Do you still need to be upside-down like that?"  
  
"Not really."

  
"Well sit up then, and hug me. I'll put these on the floor... Do you still want the blanket? Oops, sorry! Someone undid your belt. Ooh, your hands are cold."  
  
"I think I've still sweated right through my shirt."  
  
"Don't worry about that. You look a lot better." She smoothed a stray bit of fringe from his face. "You went an odd colour for a moment."  
  
"I think I felt an odd colour. Maybe turquoise. Hey, wait until we tell Pascal."  
  
"No, I mean you just went very pale. Almost grey." Rapunzel snuggled into him, her cheek leaned against his heart. "You looked so sick. I've only seen you like that once."  
  
"I know. Trust me, I know. This is new. I don't know what happened. I may just be going crazy, won't that be fun?"  
  
"You seem normal enough right now. They told me you were having hysterics and you just needed to rest awhile."  
  
"Well it's never happened to me before. Well not just because there was a sharp knife."  
  
"Yeah?" The look she's giving him is almost apologetic. "You can be a little jumpy, sometimes..."  
  
"Jumpy doesn't cover it. Jumpy is just sensible when there's a risk that things could turn nasty. This wasn't jumpy. This was knowing that everything was racing out of control and that that little knife was going to lead to you lying on the floor dying in agony and me not being able to draw breath and the whole world going dark and ending."  
  
"Right. Please let go of my ears. You're just squeezing my brain a little."  
  
"-!"  
  
"No don't freak out! You didn't hurt me. Really. Oh, come here." Rapunzel wasn't quite tall enough to put her arm round his shoulders, so she knelt up on the couch.  
  
"You see I know that it was crazy."  
  
"I know. I do know what it's like to be more frightened than is needed."  
  
"Why, what... Oh. Mother Gothel."  
  
"Not so much. About everyone else in the world. That's why I hit you."  
  
"I know. I wonder if you knocked me kinda silly. I was like a well-oiled machine until that moment. I'd take what I wanted and just honestly didn't care about anyone stupid enough to let me. And now... Now I'm terrified of doctors and nothing's simple anymore."  
  
"Oh.” Rapunzel furrowed her eyebrows in puzzlement. “No, that can't be that way. Your head must be okay. I mean, there was something wrong with your eyes, and your neck didn't seem right but..."  
  
She was looking at him- looking him over- in a way that he suddenly realised wasn't quite at him, examining his forehead and scalp.  
  
"...but then you used your hair on me didn't you?"  
  
"Er, yeah. I did. I'm really sorry, but I never wanted to really hurt you, but when you broke in and I didn't know what you were about..."  
  
"Sure. I understand that bit. So... You'd already fixed my head before I even saw you?"  
  
"I guess you could say that... I mean, I didn't think it would be a bad thing..."  
  
***  
  
"It's not a bad thing, though, is it?" Queen Lotte said, examining his hair in a manner that recalled the orphanage matron checking for nits- though in no other way did Queen Lotte recall Frau Gryer, who was about a hundred years old with a croaky voice and a mobcap possibly bigger than her head.  
  
"I guess not, provided she never breaks my skull again."  
  
"Well, provided you never break into stranger's homes again you should be safe."  
  
"I don't intend to. I don't know why you're doing that, there won't be any scars. There's no scar on my back either, I spent hours twisting round in front of the mirror. I mean I don't have any from before. I had some on my knees from a job in Tyroll when a pin the rope was hooked to broke and I slid down a wall. When she healed me- gone, and she never so much as looked at my legs."  
  
"Did she not?" Queen Lotte looked at Eugene’s legs on the couch beside her in a frank, appraising way- one of those looks that made Eugene wonder what her motives actually were in positively encouraging his… whatever it was, with Rapunzel.  
  
"Not medically. There's not a mark on me. Just fear of knives and being unable to cope without Rapunzel."  
  
"And crying at children singing Yuletide carols."  
  
"You had to bring that up."  
  
"I thought we had words at the time about not being ashamed of it."  
  
"Yes, I know. I know you don't see it that way."  
  
"Nor did Rapunzel."  
  
"No, she was just alarmed."  
  
"Nor did my husband."  
  
"He's just very tactful."  
  
"Really? He wasn't tactful about you the night that you'd made him cry."  
  
"I did what? What did I do? I didn't know he cared that much about civic law lessons-"  
  
"No, not then. Perhaps you would say that Flynn made him cry. The night before the last night of the lanterns."  
  
"You mean... The day Fl- that I stole Rapunzel's crown."  
  
"You must have known why it was kept. Our little girl's things. That we'd never given up hope that she would actually use one day."  
  
"... I do. Of course I know, I... Look... it's like... I must have known it before, but it didn't figure anything. Because before Rapunzel then if I had thought of it, it would have been sentimental ghoulish nonsense, clinging to a bauble the child couldn't want seeing as no ransom had been asked so she'd probably been dead for all the time everyone had been playing around with lanterns... I mean, how was I supposed to know that... That I was wrong."  
  
It was odd, looking into Queen Lotte's huge grass-green eyes, so like her daughter's, how long it took to think of shutting up. Perhaps it had the same effect on other men. What if Rapunzel would be able to do the same thing?  
  
"At least you waited until now to say so to me."  
  
"I don't just mean about Rapunzel being alive."  


"No. I believe this is why Rapunzel talks about Flynn as being a separate person from you."  


Eugene flopped away from her.  


"Well Flynn was a jerk. Of course he was a jerk. You can't be a career thief without being a jerk. But he was an effectual and very sane jerk."  
  
 "I wonder... It seems like more sanity than is normal, don't you think?"

 

Eugene had to stop and think about that one, trying to look casual and interested and not for a moment betray the thought: _Yep, definitely a crazy streak in the family._  
  
“…Madam, I have never given any thought to what is a normal amount of sanity.”

  
"I mean, free of all those feelings and worries that slow most of us down. The shame, the sympathy..."  
  
"The occasional freakout?"  
  
"That too. How old were you when you started being Flynn, Eugene?"  
  
"Eleven or twelve. I have a phase that's a bit more blurry than the rest."  
  
"And it wasn't a happy time, was it?"  
  
"No."  
  
"You see I think whatever it was, maybe in the orphanage, maybe just after you ran away- I think when you were still quite young you found a way to not feel all these things that were all too much. Maybe you had to do things that that you really didn't want to but had no choice. You were just a little boy. But Flynn wasn't bothered so you managed to cut off everything Eugene felt that was holding you back.”

 

“I just thought Flynnagin Rider was brave and wouldn’t be upset. It seemed a good thing at the time.”

 

“It probably would to an eleven year old. Young Eugene had been so miserable that you didn't want to be him anymore. You put up partitions in your mind that weren't normal but it worked for you. And that was all very well until you met a naive miracle healer who accidentally made your head better. And there are with all the partitions taken out and gradually everything gets... complicated."  
  
"Because Eugene is, what, nicer?"  
  
"More complete."  
  
"I don't feel that complete. Not if I don't have Rapunzel."  
  
"Perhaps needing people is being complete."  
  
"And the freaking out?"  
  
"Maybe the freakouts are just overdue."  
  
"...well this is nice. I never knew someone who talked like this before."  
  
"I grew up in Arendelle. The winter nights are very long."  
  
"Well why are you doing it in the middle of the day?"  
  
"Distraction."  
  
Eugene leapt up to look at the clock.  
  
"He's late. Why is he late? Do you think he's not coming?"  
  
"It's three minutes past, Eugene. It's within the drift of different clocks."  
  
"I want Rapunzel here."  
  
"I'll ring for the footman to get her-"  
  
"No. No, don't. I don't want her to see me do something horrible."  
  
"Eugene, what could possibly be more horrible than when you got your chest wound?"  
  
"I'll be sick. I don't want her to see."  
  
"That's alright then, if you're feeling modest. Sit down."  
  
"You're going to be there?  
  
"I'll be right here."  
  
"You shouldn't do that. I might hit you. I hit the doctor before."  
  
"That won't happen."  
  
"It might, you know, I don't-"  
  
There was a knock at the door.  
  
"It's them!"  
  
It wasn't a big room and it didn't take many seconds to find out that not only was the shutter closed but that some evil sadist had bolted it from the outside.  
  
"Oh no. Oh no no no no no."  
  
"Come and sit back down." The queen nodded to the wide-eyed footman, who skedaddled.  
  
"I want Papa here."  
  
"That could be difficult..."  
  
"Not my father, I mean- no, don't. Don't get King Leopold."  
  
"I won't. You remember why we're doing this, right?"  
  
Eugene swallowed hard, and nodded.  
  
"You will find that it's not that bad at all. It'll be all over before you know it." She wrapped her hand as far round his as it would go, and held surprisingly tight.  
  
"Mm-hm."  
  
Another knock.  
  
"Come in!"  
  
It was the same woefully-bearded doctor. This might have been a good thing but it was hard to consider that separately from the very, very bad fact that there was a doctor there at all.  
  
The two nurses weren't the same, though. Both were maybe late twenties or thereabouts and undoubtedly attractive even with the addition wimples and layers of aprons, and one was blonde and carried herself in a manner that defied anyone to use the word buxom around her-  
  
"...wha... Marthe Kahler?"  
  
"Hello Flynn Rider. And it isn't, it's Frau Moser now."  
  
"Oh... Well that's good news. Congratulations."  
  
And behind her- almost concealed because Marthe had been a strapping figure of a girl even two years ago and married life was clearly suiting her very well, a dark, slender woman, a little older but still with quite fascinating fine bones-  
  
"Luci- what will I call you now?"  
  
"Luci Spirling, I am now, Flynn."  
  
"And a nurse?"  
  
"I have seen the error of my ways and paying my debt to society. Also I'm good at it. Sit down please, sir."  
  
"I bet you are- you are such a smart woman-"  
  
"I know. I'm going to go to London to study new nursing practice. On the couch, please, sir."  
  
"To London? Oh that's great! So glad to oh gods no no no you don't I-"  
  
By the time Eugene had realised that the scream had come from him, the doctor said:  
  
"That's it. Bandage please nurse."  
  
"That was it? It's over?"  
  
Queen Lotte looked at him skeptically from the foot end of the couch. (Oh she knew. How had she known? How had she found them? But she knew.)  
  
"You wanted more?"  
  
***  
Rapunzel laid her hand on his forehead. Then she put in on hers. Then on his again.

“I don’t know,” she said. “I guess you _could_ have a slight fever. But you’re normally warm, so… well, they said you might. So… you could.”

“So there you are,” King Leopold offered from his armchair. “The doctor gave you permission. You _may_ have a fever.”

Eugene considered giving King Leopold a Look, but thought better of it- and not only because a Look didn’t really work when one was lying on the sofa draped in a purple blanket that Rapunzel had taken off her bed (which held her smell, like meadows in summer and mead, but that was a distraction), not to mention Queen Lotte sitting almost on his feet, having almost but not quite condescended to give up the sofa to him.

“Madam, I think your husband’s mocking me.”

“Yes dear. He’s allowed to do that. He’s the king.”

“Well that’s just tyranny.”

“Is it? Good, I’ll do it whenever I like then.”

“ _Boys_ … don’t start.”

“I’m not starting anything.” Eugene pulled up the blanket and folded his arms.

“Me neither.” The king raised the book that he was pretending to read again.

Rapunzel looked from one to the other, blinking.

“So you two are alright, then?”

“Don’t worry, darling. They don’t hurt each other. When they’re well-matched, it’s just a game. And Leopold, don’t get Eugene agitated. He isn’t well. Psychosomatic symptoms are real, you know.”

“..cyclo-semantic… what?”

“Experiences of illness that are generated from the mind but experienced in the body, is that right, Lotte?”

“Very good.”

“Well, there you are, I do learn eventually. Would I fit in in Arendelle, my love?”

“Of course you would. It’s only very amateur understanding of the science. And anyway, my brother didn’t have any great interest in it. I don’t think he found it useful.”

“Your brother…” Eugene put his arm round Rapunzel’s waist, the better to lead her into snuggling beside him, fever or none. “-the King of Arendelle?”

“That’s right. Little Agdar was more mathematical. When he was older we used to spend hours playing What is Time, Professor Wolf? Professor Heinz Wolf would come round for the evening and we would sneak up from behind asking him questions about the physics of time and space- and when we came within range he had to try to catch and eat us.”

“I think I would like to meet King Agdar.”

“So would I.” Queen Lotte frowned intensely into her embroidery. “I haven’t seen him in more than fifteen years; Leopold and I couldn’t travel and Agdar has two daughters, about fifteen and twelve now, and the oldest, as I understand it she’s been fragile, somehow, since she was a child. She can’t travel and so none of them do. But that’s the past. You’ll meet them all, I’m sure. Soon.”

**Author's Note:**

> While the idea that we call 'vaccinations' for smallpox (which used to kill thousands and left survivors horribly disfigured) had been around in Asia since at least the 1600s, a safer version was established in the late 18th century by an English doctor called Edward Jenner, and it really did involve pus from people who had caught cowpox, an ugly but mild viral condition from which humans recover quickly without lasting problems, from working with cattle (and as all milking was done by hand, this usually meant dairymaids). It's held to be the reason that smallpox is mostly consigned to history. You can read more about the process, and Jenner's work developing it, here: http://www.historylearningsite.co.uk/a-history-of-medicine/edward-jenner/


End file.
